The Mysterious Stranger
by Syckle
Summary: He shadows the Lone Wanderer without fuss or reason, he protects her without making contact, without asking for anything in return, but why? Why does he do it? A grudge against a common enemy? A debt to be paid? An infatuation? Rating may change brutally.
1. Three Dogs, Two Children

**Extracted From the Mind of Kai Mayer **

_Disclaimer: Technically I own nothing, but you could say that my interpretations of character personalities are mine._

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_Chapter One: Three Dogs, Two Children_

Lighting flashed across the livid night sky, torrents of rain bucketed down from the black heavens, with only the occasional streak of white in the distance penetrating the obscurity. It didn't rain often in the area now known as the Capital Wasteland, but when it did, it really chucked it down. This precipitation would do more than just make everything wet however; the lethal raindrops were heavily irradiated, like most other water nowadays. Because of this, trees had ceased to exist; plants in general were a thing of the past, the stuff of legend. Insects still thrived of course, basking in the radiation, mutating into bigger and more dangerous forms. The world is just a hell of a place these days.

Two small figures were sheltered beneath the ruins of an old highway which had crumbled decades ago. They huddled together under a small ragged blanket, sitting on rocks with their knees drawn up to avoid the radiated puddles at their feet. Only the elder of the two was still conscious, he refused to succumb to the cold, to fall into the reaper's grim embrace. Shivering, and teeth chattering, he tried with every fiber in his being to resist the urge to nod off, to sleep, to never awaken. He had to protect his sister, if not him, than who would defend her from the world?

Despite his blurred vision, the boy did see a shadow against the sky as it was illuminated by Zeus' mighty will, he blinked and rubbed his dirty face, surely no one would be dense enough to walk in the acid-rain! But when he looked again, the silhouette was right in front of him. He gasped, and with numb hands felt for the Chinese Pistol he'd discovered on a corpse not long ago.

"Looking for this?" The mysterious figure asked, holding up the weapon, it was a man, and he spoke slowly, but lucidly. The stranger began to spin the handgun on his finger, speaking in a tone which was almost completely flat at the same time.

"Typical Chinese sidearm, but in reality the design is of the German Mouser." He stated, tossing it into the air and catching it, before spinning it again, "Fires ten millimeter rounds, but it's not powerful, wide spread of fire." The shadowy man paused, appearing to look over the weapon more closely. "Known as 'The Broom Handle' for it's distinct shape, best suited to small skirmishes in which the hard muzzle jump can be utilized to create a horizontal sweep, eliminating opposition."

The boy whimpered beneath his cover, but nonetheless shifted so that he was between the stranger and his sleeping sister.

"Please…" He pleaded, "Just go, we don't have anything."

"How unfortunate." The silhouette replied, aiming the gun right at the innocent boy's pale face and pulling the trigger, a click was heard. "Your magazine is empty."

The boy finally collapsed; exhaustion and fear taking their toll at last.

With a low sigh the Mysterious Stranger took a seat and removed his fedora, placing it on his lap and rubbing the top of his shaved head. He tossed the useless Chinese Pistol away, and laid his head against a soft mound of dirt. He donned his headgear once again, but this time adjusted it so that it covered his dark eyes, what he saw within the hat made him smile, as he so rarely did, and it also helped him eventually drift off to sleep.

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_"Good Morning Children!!" _Came Three Dog's jovial broadcast, his cackling so loud it caused even Wadsworth to jerk and hover into the air, his hibernation protocol interrupted.

"Oh, this insipid Juke-Box has been more bothersome than its worth should allot!" The mechanical butler exclaimed with his posh twang, floating up the stairway and reaching out with a mandible in order to switch the music player off.

"No wait!" Was the soft and unexpected reply. Wadsworth jumped, trying to turn but ending up bumping his outstretched claw against the tuning dial on the jukebox. As the _Galaxy News Radio _signal was turned to low static, a slender but bedraggled young woman appeared in the doorway of the diminutive bedroom. She had bright sea-green eyes, but hair of a colour unrecognizable due to the darkness of the room. Her form was also petite but shapely, displaying much sex-appeal as she placed her hands on the doorframe for balance as she stretched.

"Ah, Good morning Mistress," Wadsworth greeted politely, "Please, return to your sleep, I was just deactivating the radio."

"Hold on, I wanted to hear that." The woman responded, stepping lightly across the cold metallic floor and adjusting the tune dial. She pushed Wadsworth aside rather roughly as she did so, causing him to scoff in distaste. The garbled signal whirred and whined, picking up random pieces of Three Dog's speech, and the wretched sound continued until the girl finally managed to find the right frequency.

"-once again this is Three Dog -OOWWW!!- on _Galaxy News Radio_, comin' to you Live from the middle of the DC Hellhole!" The DJ laughed, clearly taking pleasure in the broadcast. "Now, for a bit of News,"

The green-eyed woman listened intently, wondering somewhat self-importantly if she'd be mentioned. When Wadsworth tried to recommend her return to bed she silenced him by pulling out what were literally his vocal cords.

"So children, I've heard tell that the one and only _Wasteland_ _Exemplar_ from Vault 101 has been cracking down on human trafficking -that's slavery if you're an idiot- around Paradise Falls and the surrounding area. She's spreading the word that as long as she's around, there will be no more slaves in the Capital Wasteland. That, my friends, is fighting the good fight!"

Three Dog's words made the woman smile, it was heart lifting to know that someone actually took notice of the things she did for the people of the wasteland.

"So if you see that chick the _Exemplar_, be sure to show some gratitude, and hey 101, if you're ever in DC, come on by the station for an, uh, _one on one_ interview, Three Dog out!"

The soft but stylish singing of Johnny Cash began to play, causing the so-called _Exemplar_'s heart to swell with appreciation for Three Dog and his radio. Even though she'd never met the man, it felt like he was her best friend in all the wasteland, as his inspirational words gave her more reason to fight that anything else.

_I guess I'll have to visit him sometime soon. _She thought with a sly smile, hooking Wadsworth's cords back in.

"My!" The robot huffed, "I do believe that you've misaligned my verbal processors!"

"Oh Wadsworth quit fussing," The exemplar giggled, kissing the tip of one of her droid's mandibles. "You'll live."

With that the nude woman made her way back into the bedroom, where she bade Wadsworth a good sleep and asked him to wake her around eight-thirty.

"Of course Madame, sweet dreams." The butler responded, bowing an automaton's bow and signing off.


	2. Strange Loners and Wandering Mysteries

**Extracted From the Mind of Kai Mayer**

_Disclaimer: Still owning nothing _

_Announcement: Special thanks to my reveiwers! Your support is heart-lifting, and motivating. I never expected reviews this early! Oh, and I know this chapter seems a bit lame compared to the last, but I needed the two protagonists to meet, and intimacy between characters isn't my strong point. The next will be less offbeat, promise. Oh, and I haven't forgotten about the two children from the first chap, they will return. _

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_Chapter Two: __Strange Loners and Wandering Mysteries_

The Super Mutants were unrelenting, they seemed to come from all directions and instead of fleeing when out of ammo, they simply threw down their guns and rushed at the Wanderer with blunt weaponry.

The _Wasteland_ _Exemplar_, as she'd often been called, was wondering if her quest to find her father would end here, cold, bleeding, and alone in the ruins of Washington DC. Brutally killed, or eaten, or raped by these snarling and roaring monsters. She wasn't entirely sure what it was they did with people, no one was, but she _really_ didn't want to find out.

She reloaded her Chinese Assault Rifle as best she could with her shaking hands, having to fiddle with a safety a bit because lately she'd neglected lately to maintain the weapon, a shortcoming she now greatly regretted. Feverously she wondered how long her cover would last, the Mutants had Mini-guns and missile launchers and sledgehammers and god knows what else. All she had was the rifle, a butcher's knife, one final fragmentation grenade and a sawn-off shotgun she'd looted from the metro earlier.

Shivering in the frigid night air, the Wanderer lifted herself from the ground and, with buckling knees, fired a few shots into the gloom of the Washington Mall. She knew the Mutants knew where she was, she didn't know where they mutants were, and they knew that, very bad.

The _Exemplar _now cursed her foolish pride in not accepting help on her quest; she had hoped to gain more renown by finding Three Dog's satellite dish by her lonesome. Now all she'd gain is death, perhaps quickly, perhaps agonizingly slow. The latter was beginning to seem far more likely.

There was a bellowing shout, and the Wanderer turned just in time to see a particularly fierce looking Super Mutant rush at her, swinging a wooden plank with nails still lodged in it. Her body may have been fatigued, but her mind, and by extension her reflexes, were sharp as ever. She ducked under the first blow and tried to fire into the Super Mutant's stomach, but her gun jammed and she was forced to roll away as the Mutant swung again.

Drawing her knife, the _Exemplar _leapt onto the Mutant's shoulders and began to stab mercilessly into its thick green throat. At first it struggled, but the past two months surviving on the Wasteland had made the Wanderer a swift killer. Before long the hunk of mutated flesh fell to the ground, dead at last. Panting, the Wanderer sheathed her blade, but noticed a flash in the black distance. Her eyes widened as she realized that it was the glare of moonlight on a scope.

She just managed to dive back behind cover before the wall behind her took a .308 caliber round. _A sniper!? _She thought furiously to herself, _There are NO Super Mutant Snipers! _

Clutching the frag grenade in one hand and pulling the pin with her teeth, the _Exemplar _flung the pineapple with all the strength and skill her years as The Vault 101 Little League's MVP could warrant her. _Three, two..._ She counted down in her head, teeth gritting in weariness and anger.

_BOOM. _There were multiple screams, the screams of men, of raiders. The explosion also ignited the nuclear reactor of a nearby Roles Royce, which went up in a beautiful and terrible radiation-enhanced blast.

No longer paying the Raiders any mind, the Wanderer grabbed her faulty rifle and made a desperate break for the Museum which was supposed to have Three Dog's dish within it. As she ran she fixed the jam in her weapon, loading a new clip and hoping to God that there were no more Mutants within the building.

"_You're such a cockeyed optimist." _Amata's laughing voice echoed her head.

It's funny how flashbacks always seem to pertain to what's happening in real life.

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Half a dozen Mutants fell gurgling to the ground, all still grasping their weapons, covered in the blood continuing to spurt from the burst arteries on each of their necks. The man who'd bestowed this fate upon them calmly placed a new clip into his customized .44 Magnum.

The Super Mutants had seemed to be lying in wait for that girl whom he'd seen traversing the wastes, an ambush, he couldn't allow that. Even on a black night such as this, he had to shine his light, the light of munificence.

"Fight fair," He found himself commanding the corpses, "Or don't fight at all," He then paused before adding, "Or die."

_That was pretty good, _He thought to himself, strolling away and holstering his pistol. _I should write that down. _

It was clear that this woman he'd just secretly saved had some business in Washington, some quest or mission to complete. It was also clear that she had come unprepared to finish the job, so he would help her; as it was his duty as a human being to distribute retribution. As long as he drew breath and had ammunition, the righteous would flourish, but evil must be punished.

He'd heard about this Wanderer, this _Exemplar,_ on the radio, the disc jockey had mentioned on several occasions her fighting of 'the good fight'. So the Mysterious Stranger decided he would fight the good fight alongside her, although to him "alongside" meant from the shadows behind her.

Climbing to the second floor of a ruined building, the Stranger watched as the Wanderer tossed a grenade and blew a small party of raiders to gory bits. He grunted in approval, but did a double take as he saw her sprint toward the Museum of Technology; didn't she know that Mutants made their homes within buildings?

With an annoyed growl he stepped off his perch, bending his knees as he landed to absorb the fall and using a hand to keep his balance. Then he began to sprint toward the museum, one hand on his hat and the other on his magnum. There was no time to tarry; the Lone Wanderer was in great peril.

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The _Exemplar _screamed in pain as .32 bullets tore into her right shoulder and smashed her left kneecap. The offending Super Mutants laughed as they pulled pins on their hunting rifles which expelled the empty shells, taking their time watching her writhe in pain before lining up more shots. Propping herself up on her uninjured knee, the Wanderer threw herself behind a nearby pillar and struggled to again fix the jam on her assault rifle. Dread began to creep into her, making her limbs sag and forcing her to bite back the pained tears.

"_Take a deep breath, eyes down the sight, and squeeze the trigger." _Her father said, his grizzled image flashing before her eyes. The Wanderer suddenly felt new strength surge through her body, and she raised the weapon again, but before she could fire, a strange tune sounded from her Pip-Boy. It was like the kind of jingle you'd hear on a detective cartoon or an old Western, sounding like a lone, very low guitar, and the notes it played were very dark and brooding. She glanced at the device on her wrist, wondering if it was malfunctioning, only to dart her head back up as someone in brown ran past her.

At first the Stranger paid no attention to the Wanderer, but it was clear how vicious he was, because before anyone knew what he was doing the two Mutants were grasping their throats and falling to the floor.

Evidently, he was unharmed; as the first thing he did was kneel down to check the _Exemplar_'s wounds. Who could tell he was in perfect health, because she'd been injured in front of others before, but in her experience Wastelanders always looked after themselves first. If people had thought chivalry was dead in the twenty-first century, it certainly was now.

"…Hurm." Was all the Stranger saw fit to grunt, examining the bullet wound on her shin, and then moving on to its twin on her shoulder. She looked wide-eyed at him, still panting, and still scared shitless. The Wanderer tried to make out her savior's face, which was hidden in the shadow beneath his hat. For a fleeting and hope-filled moment she thought it to be her father, but quickly she dismissed the notion, this man was far too good a shot with a pistol.

The Mysterious Stranger reached out with his right hand, it was rough and calloused from a life of holding the same sidearm, and it was also grimy and blackened from a life of limited bathing. Before the _Exemplar _could object however, he hurriedly zipped open her Vault 101 jumpsuit, tearing off the armoured shoulder plate which Moira had added, and effectively groped her right breast.

She yelped, both in pain from the wound and in surprise. Reflexively she tried to smack him with her other hand, a defense she had utilized many times against Butch and his gang, but to her great astonishment the man caught her speeding palm.

"Do you want to die!?" He exclaimed, bating away her hand and retrieving a pair of tweezers from his pocket. "There's a bullet lodged in your…" He broke off the sentence, looking into the Wanderer's eyes and seeing the pure emotion which lay behind them. This woman was innocent, not the kind of innocent he was used to, most of the people he protected were only innocent for the time being, and many a time he had been forced to put down old allies for their misdeeds. This _Exemplar_ was different however, he looked into her sea-green eyes and saw only kindness, albeit fear, loneliness, loss, and pain were thrown in there as well, but those were temporary, true benevolence was forever.

"What the fuck are you looking at!?" The Wanderer snarled, finally mustering the courage to push the Stranger away and remove his hand from her chest. Furiously, she kicked him, hard, in the chin, and all but forgetting his help earlier, limped out the door as fast as she could. The Stranger didn't follow.

_----------_

_What was that about? _The _Exemplar _found herself wondering as the Ghoul Doctor patched up her wounds and extracted the bullet. _Who was that guy?_ _Was he trying to help? Or..._

"You gonna pay? Or do I havta' feed your brain to my glowing buddies?" The Chop Shop Doc asked, motioning to the feral Ghouls under surveillance in the room nextdoor.

"Oh, yeah, thanks very much!" The Wanderer said, flashing her winning smile before paying her caps and leaving. She was lucky to have run into Willow outside, the kindly Ghoul had dragged her down to Underworld and taken her straight to the Chop Shop. _I must remember to thank her for that. _

Unbeknownst to the Wanderer, the Stranger had followed her, and she didn't even notice him next to her on the bar as she sat down for a drink. His hat hid his features, and his inconspicuous clothing allowed him to blend in well enough with the Ghouls. _I shall have to shadow her for a while, she can clearly accomplish feats of good on a scale i can scarcely imagine. The least I can do is protect her. _He told himself, not wanting to admit that he was, in fact, enamored by the woman. She was so pure and clear, like a shining jewel, _though she is far from diamond-hard..._

This he thought as he remembered the feel of her flesh on his hand, he had had so little human contact in the last few years that just the warmth of her bosom amazed him. Though to be honest, the implied sexuallity of his previous actions escaped him, he couldn't remember ever touching or being touched affectionately in his life, and as such had no idea about such things.

The two sat for about an hour, and the Mysterious Stranger listened intently as the Wanderer made small talk with the other patrons, never paying any attention to him. He began to make a pyscological profile of her in his mind, but was broken out of his thoughts when he realized that she had up and left. Quickly but silently he dashed after her, not willing to lose her, as she was now the closest thing he'd ever had to a friend.

Pathetic, no?


	3. Two Housesholds Both Alike in Dignity

**Extracted From the Mind of Kai Mayer**

_Chapter Three: Two Households Both Alike in Dignity_

The Stranger looked into the small fire, watching the ashes dance about as the wood charred and splintered. The Wanderer sat opposite him, looking at her silent new companion skeptically as he took apart and reassembled his magnum over and over again. It had been three days since she'd caught him following her into the GNR building, yet other than that first sentence back in the Museum of Technology, the Mysterious Stranger had not yet uttered a word to her. He unnerved her with his blank stare and his taciturn personality, but as he vengefully protected her from any threats, she had no reason to complain or doubt.

Grinding her teeth in hesitation, the _Exemplar _finally spoke up. "Um… Why do you keep doing that?" She referred to the Stranger's repeated reconstruction of his sidearm.

The dark-skinned man peeked out from under his hat, looking at her with that odd stare he always used when she addressed him. Instead of a true answer however, he simply shrugged, placing six .44 rounds into the barrel, an action which marked his fifteenth weapon assembly that day.

The Wanderer huffed, not enjoying his curtness. "So, you like guns huh?" She asked, attempting again to get him to speak. All the Stranger did was nod.

"Can you tell me about yourself?"

He shook his head.

"Why not?"

He shrugged.

The young woman blew a single dark bang out of her eyes, "Can you tell me your name at least?"

Startlingly, the hairless man actually looked up properly at this statement, but his vacant stare was different, the firelight caused his eyes to gleam slightly, as if flames licked about within him. "Tell me yours." He stipulated, with no force or emotion in his voice.

The Wanderer's eyes narrowed as she wondered why he couldn't just give her a straight answer. "It's Lucy, Lucy Brookes."

_Brookes… _The Stranger's face twitched and he attempted to decipher the etymology. "Lucy, as in a feminine variation of Lucas, or as an abbreviated Lucia?" Before the girl could answer he continued, "Or perhaps a strange perversion of Lucifer, the foil of Jehovah or 'God'?"

Lucy was at a loss for words, as his analysis was startling. "Um, I'm not really sure…"

The coated man looked disappointed, "There is no need for a name if you don't even bother to learn its meaning."

"Well, what's yours than smart-ass?" Lucy snapped, indignant at his judgment.

"I have no need for one." He answered matter-of-factly, looking down at his magnum and beginning to disassemble it once again.

"So what am I supposed to do if you wander off and I need help?" The Wanderer said hesitantly, not wanting to make it seem like she really wanted his assistance, although in reality she was endlessly thankful.

"That won't happen."

"Well, what if we're separated, what name am I going to call?"

The Stranger thought very long and hard about his answer, or maybe he was just concentrating on his gun. Nevertheless he did look up after rebuilding it again.

"Call me Montague." He stated, or perhaps demanded, it was impossible to tell.

"Montague…? Like that stupid play?" Lucy cocked her head to one side, struggling to remember the details.

"I don't know what you're talking about," The coated man lied, "_Montague_ is the name you may call me should you deem _Stranger_ inappropriate."

"Okay…" The _Exemplar _said, surprised that her protector was so talkative all of a sudden, but she became saddened when he ceased conversation. "I suppose you could say that my name is a 'perversion' of Lucifer, it's an odd way of looking at it though." Lucy said this with the hopes that it would spur more words out of him, but he simply grunted in response, starting his gun ritual again.

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Morning came, and with it the smell of cooking Mirelurk. The _Exemplar_ awoke groggily, not exactly sure where she was or how she'd gotten there. But when she saw the tip of the Stranger's hat poking out from behind a large stone, it all came rushing back to her.

"…Montague?" She called, unsure of what he was doing.

"I told you to only call me that when necessary." His low voice responded from behind the rock, there was a strange sound, like the chink of silver on a wine glass.

"It's necessary, what are you doing?"

"You a favor." He replied.

"What?"

"I'm doing, or rather _was _doing you a favor." He stood up as he said this, walking over to Lucy and placing a newly-refurbished Chinese Assault Rifle in front of her. She looked at him incredulously, picking the gun up and checking it over.

"I fixed it so that it shouldn't lock up on you anytime soon, I also polished it and tightened a few of the bolts, which ought to ensure your finger doesn't slip and cause any accidents." The Stranger said, dusting his hat off and feeling the stubbed hair which had begun to reappear on his chin. "I also took the liberty of cleaning the individual parts, to save you the trouble of doing it later; a little maintenance goes a long way."

The Wanderer shook her head in amazement. "You must have been working on this for hours!"

"Fifteen minutes, and only that long because I made you breakfast at the same time." He pointed to a thin slab of rock which had been used to fry some strips of Mirelurk, a small fire smoldered beneath it. "Plus a herd of Yao Guai caught whiff of the food, I was forced to take them down."

"Jeez…" Was all Lucy could grimace, "Um, thanks for the food- Wait, where are you going!?"

Montague was already half-way down the hill by the time she'd called after him, it astounded her how he seemed to move so silently. "To Megaton, I've got 'business' to take care of, go to Three Dog, find your dad." Before the _Exemplar _could protest he added, "Don't worry, I'll be watching." And then he was gone.

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"Hey mister!" A random orphan called as The Stranger stepped into the Megaton common house. "How come you never bring us any food!? It's not like the new kids deserve it any more than we do!"

The Stanger's face, obscured as it was, became even darker as he removed his hat and approached the children whom he'd rescued back on that rainy day.

"Has she awoken yet?" He asked the boy, Daniel, the two of them leaning over his unconscious sister.

"No, she just keeps tossing and turning, she's got a major fever and… and I think the messed up water is only making it worse…" Daniel choked, biting back the tears for his last remaining family member.

The Stranger placed a hand on the boy's shoulder, "Don't worry, we _will _find a doctor, and we _will _find somewhere safe for you, I promise."

"You promised you'd save my parents too! Now where are they!?" Daniel accused loudly, thinking back to the fires of his hometown, he swung around and pushed the Stranger away. "It's your fault they're dead! And it'll be your fault when Samantha dies as well!!"

The entire common house fell silent, all eyes were on the Stranger, his dark eyes were wide, and his newly shaven face looked almost fearful.

"Get out of here Montague!! GET OUT!!" The boy yelled, pointing at the door.

Slowly, the Stranger rose, donning his fedora once again, and quietly he shoved a bag of food into Daniel's arms. As his face was covered completely in shadow, no one saw the tears in his eyes as he left the building.

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The acid rain fell once again.

Once again the sky was brightened by lightning and scolded by thunder, life was burned by radiation, and death was in abundance. Only one dared walk in the pelting downpour, the raindrops hitting his overcoat like bullets, the Mysterious Stranger, Montague, the legendary failure.

He walked very slowly, as his destination was nigh, but he wanted to savor every Rad, every ounce of punishment for his deeds.

"_You'll never be nothin' if ya keep going the way yer goin!" _His uncle's voice called from beyond the grave,

"_Why were you born!? To torment me? Make my life a living Hell!?" _His mother asked, the old words still hurting him even ten years later.

"_You're just like your father! Introverted, opinionated, like to read books, good for nothing!!" _His grandmother yelled, _"Get a haircut you spoiled brat!" _

"_I HATE YOU!!" _His sister had screamed, moments after he had dragged her, half naked, out of some punk's house. The guy in question lay in a bloody puddle within the bedroom, a Nuka-Cola bottle smashed on his head.

"_You can accomplish anything you put your mind to son." _A very different sounding disembodied voice reassured. He stopped walking, fists clenching, irradiated tears mixing with irradiated rain. _"I love you." _Were his father's warm words as he hugged the Stranger years ago, away from the Capital Wasteland, back home. _"I love you more than anything in the world, more than air." _

"_Even more than books dad?" _The young Stranger had piped up, looking into his father's yellowy-green eyes. His father laughed. _"More than all the books in the world, Montague." _

The Stranger sniffed, his nose was running, and his hat had fallen off. He looked into a puddle as lightning caused it to mirror his silhouette, his bare head could easily be made out, as well as the pistol at his hip. But he also noticed that a sortie of men in Talon Company armour were moving from cover to cover, heading to the GNR headquarters. Montague gritted his teeth.

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Lucy sat next to Three Dog in his studio, swiveling around in a tattered green armchair, sipping a mug of coffee. She had finally made it back to the GNR building, and she was finally getting that promised interview.

"Hey, what is UP Capital Wasteland!? It is I, Three Dog -OOOOWWWW!!- your friendly neighborhood disc-jockey, and master of all I survey!" As the DJ said this into the microphone he made gestures which pertained to what he was saying, such as holding his arms in front of his chest like a dog as he howled and holding an arm over his mouth at 'survey', imitating an evil cloaked villain. His strangeness made Lucy giggle, a sound which the microphone accidently picked up.

"Uh oh, whoops!" Three Dog laughed, "Guess I've been found out! Well, we've got a very special guest here today, the one and only, one of a kind, one in a million, one-der-ous, Lone Wandererfrom Vault one-oh-one! Introduce yourself babe."

"Uh, hi everybody…" The young woman said hesitantly, smile on her face as she pushed a lock of brown hair from her green eyes. "It's… Good to be here!" She laughed slightly at her incompetence, not used to 'public' speaking.

Three Dog interjected, his made-for-radio announcer's voice giving the broadcast the edge it needed. "Ain't she just a doll folks? Now, I've been calling you _Exemplar _for quite a while now, but tell the children, who are you really?"

"Um, I'm Lucy Brookes, from Vault 101."

"That's right, you heard it here first kids, the _Exemplar _is Lucy Brookes, inhabitant and protector of Megaton, she's the one who diffused the Atom Bomb folks!" The DJ said almost giddily, "She's practically the face of the Good Fight, and now you know who to thank when all slavers in the Wasteland are dead!"

Lucy suddenly had second thoughts about this interview; she was broadcasting her name, location, and deeds, to everyone in the Wasteland. _Including my enemies… _she thought with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

"That's right Paradise Falls, Lucy Brookes is a' coming for YOU!" Three Dog shouted into the mike. But before the Wanderer could express her concerns the back door to the studio suddenly busted open, and in stepped The Mysterious Stranger. He was hatless and looked very disheveled, but was interrupted before he could speak by two Brotherhood soldiers in Power Armour

"We're sorry Three Dog," One of the soldiers said, grabbing the Stranger. "There's a skirmish going on outside and he snuck in, don't worry, we're disposing of him." They were about to lead him away, but all of a sudden one of them jumped back.

"Ah!" The female soldier whipped her armoured hand away from Montague, "He's hot!"

"Hey! You just met this guy! What about me!?" The other asked indignantly.

"No you idiot!" The female hissed, "He's radioactive!"

The wanderer had come to the same conclusion, as she had finally noticed her Geiger counter clicking away at eleven Rads. "Montague where have you been!?" She exclaimed, standing up and taking a step toward him, but he gruffly grabbed her arm.

"We have to go; now, there are men outside trying to get in and kill you, mercenaries."

At the word, 'kill' Three Dog switched off his recording equipment and dived beneath his bed.

Lucy gave in; she had no reason not to trust the Stranger. "Okay, let's go, but uh… keep your distance."

"Humph." The coated man grunted, putting his hat back on, and pushing past the Brotherhood soldiers.

"Sorry!" The wanderer giggled, "But I like not being a mutant!"

The partners made their way out the building, drawing their preferred weapons, determined to fight their way to safety.

"Hey, there she is!" A merc called as he picked a minigun from the corpse of a Brotherhood member, all of whom seemed to be dead. A second later Montague turned the man's head into a gooey, bloody mess with his pistol, and turned to Lucy.

"Ready?"

The Wanderer nodded, switching the safety on her rifle. "Ready."

Together the two loners took aim, and fired.


End file.
